Far Behind
by Lilia Gibson
Summary: This takes place a week after Jack's funeral.


_**Summary:**_ Formerly titled Just A Kiss. This takes place a week after Jack's funeral.

_**A/N 1:**_ The [new] title comes from Candlebox's song of the same name.

_**A/N 2:**_ Encounter At Farpoint makes it appear as though Jean-Luc, Beverly, and Wesley barely knew each other. Granted, it had been years since they had seen or spoken to each other but this doesn't make sense to me since Jean-Luc and Jack were best friends. This story is based on the premise that they all knew each other well.

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**Far Behind**

Jean-Luc Picard walked a pace slightly slower than that of a man with a purpose. She sent him a message yesterday and asked him to their apartment tonight for dinner. 'She' being Beverly Crusher and 'their apartment' being her and Jack's apartment. It had been a week since the funeral of his best friend and second in command of the Stargazer, Jack Crusher. Jean-Luc was completely consumed with wondering why she wanted to see him – the man who brought home the body of her dead husband. The man whose decisions cost her husband his life. He thought she would be angry with him for killing her husband and father to their son. Perhaps that's why she invited him, to yell at him and tell him she wished it were him instead and that she never wanted to see him again.

He didn't waste any time leaving after the funeral service was over. The pieces of his already broken heart were crushed at seeing Beverly and Wesley at the funeral. Both woman and child were stone-faced attempting to be strong for each other. He saw no point in staying. He didn't know what he would have said to her that he hadn't already when he accompanied her to view Jack's body days before the funeral. And Wesley. He looked so much like his father. He hardly knew what to say to a child under normal circumstances. What does one say to a six-year old who's just lost his father?

What Jean-Luc had to say to Jack could wait and did until he visited Jack's grave a few days ago. Jean-Luc said things he never told Jack when the younger man was alive. He told him something he never told anyone else – and likely never would – and he asked Jack questions he would never receive answers to.

Before he realized it, he stood at her door. He looked at the door then the floor at his feet. It wasn't the first time he hesitated at this door. He took a deep breath. 'Let's get this over with.' He thought as he raised his hand to signal his presence. He dropped his hand at his side then decided to clasp his hands together in front of him.

Beverly was standing at the stove, lost in thought, when she heard the door chime. She froze. A couple seconds later, she released the breath she didn't realize she held in and walked to the door. She started to give the command for the door to open then paused. She stepped up to the door and put both hands on it at shoulder level and leaned her forehead against the door. She inhaled sharply and her breath caught in her throat as her body shuddered with the beginnings of a sob. Tears immediately spilled from her eyes but she quickly inhaled through her nose, successfully stifling her remaining tears. She used both hands to wipe the tears from her face and dried the backs of her hands on her shirt then took a deep breath. This was something she needed to do, she told herself. She backed away from the door a step then pressed the pad to open it. Jean-Luc stood patiently with his hands clasped in front of him. He wore khaki-colored trousers with a white, long-sleeved, crewneck t-shirt. He looked tired but freshly cleaned up.

"Jean-Luc." She breathed his name and smiled politely, unsure of how to greet him. Should she smile broadly and act as if she were pretending to be strong or should she remain as somber and insensate as she felt at that moment?

"Hello." He said.

"Please, come in." She gestured inside.

Her features told him she was exhausted and she cried recently. That aside, she looked lovely, as she always did. She wore a light blue, long-sleeved, button-up shirt with black leggings. He assumed the shirt was one of Jack's by the size of it on her. She rolled up the sleeves and left the top couple buttons undone. The shirt hung to the tops of her thighs and her feet were bare. She loved being barefoot whenever she could and he rarely saw her wear shoes at home.

He stepped inside and she tapped the pad again to close the door. She didn't look at him as she walked past him. Her long, red hair was braided loosely and swayed against her back as she walked to the kitchen. "Dinner is almost ready."

He wasn't sure what to expect from her this evening. He followed a distance behind her. "Shall I get Wesley?" He asked quietly.

She paused just as she reached the kitchen then tilted her head down and toward his direction. "No, he's at a friend's house tonight." She said matter-of-factly then continued to the stove.

"Oh." He said to himself. 'This can't be good.' He thought. "How is he doing?" He asked cautiously as he stood on the other side of the counter.

"He's being strong for me." She said with a gentle tone as she stirred the pot on the stove. "He understands what death is." She added in a quiet but somber voice. "I explained what happened…" She paused. "I didn't have to explain that his father wasn't coming home." Jean-Luc, standing with his hands on the counter, closed his eyes and turned his face downward as his jaw clenched. Beverly stopped stirring long enough to turn her head to look at Jean-Luc. "I guess that's a virtue of having a genius for a son." He looked at her and saw her smirk before she returned her attention to the pot on the stove. He gave a small, sad smile at her attempt to lighten the conversation.

"He is an amazing child." Jean-Luc said. He saw her smile at his comment. To say Jean-Luc was uncomfortable around children was an understatement but she knew he was sincere.

She turned off the stove and retrieved two bowls and spoons then put them on the counter next to the stove. She filled each bowl with what looked like vegetable soup and put a spoon in each bowl. She then put both bowls on the counter in front of Jean-Luc. He picked them up and set each on opposite sides of the dining table. As he rounded the table to sit on the far side, Beverly walked to the table with two cups of hot tea. She put both cups on the table and slid one across to Jean-Luc then pulled out her chair to sit.

"Vegetable soup?" He asked as he picked up his spoon and looked at the contents in the bowl.

She smiled. "Yes. I haven't been eating as I should and I'm going to guess you haven't either. So, I thought some hot, homemade soup would do us both some good."

She was right. He hadn't been eating much. He blew on the soup-filled spoon then quietly sipped it. It was good. "Mmmm." He uttered quietly as he scooped another spoonful. She smiled.

They ate in silence. It was the first real meal either of them had in the past few weeks. Jean-Luc finished first. He rested his chin on one of his hands and stared out the window to his right. He felt like he should talk but he couldn't think of anything to say. Beverly considered ways to broach the subject with Jean-Luc but couldn't seem to do it. She drained her cup when she was finished with her soup then stood up and took both items to the kitchen. She rinsed out both the bowl and the cup when Jean-Luc followed suit and took his bowl and cup into the kitchen. She turned around just far enough to take both items from his hands. He slowly dropped his hands to his sides and turned around to walk out of the kitchen. He wondered when the shoe would drop.

"Jean-Luc…" She started and turned to look at him. 'No time like the present.' She thought. Heaven knew he might flee again at any moment and leave her with her questions indefinitely. He stopped and turned around. "Why did you leave so suddenly after the funeral?" She asked. Her expression was a mixture of pain, from feeling abandoned by him, and hope that he would say something to make it right.

There it was. He tilted his head downward slightly. He could whip a plan in a nanosecond to get his ship and crew out of a dangerous situation but for the life of him, he could not do so now. He knew she wouldn't accept what he was about to say, half-truth or not. "There were so many people around you and Wesley. I…didn't know what to say." He trailed off as he rubbed his forehead with one of his hands.

There was a long pause and she leaned back against the counter. What his words said to her was he was afraid; Jean-Luc Picard was afraid. He was afraid of accusing stares. He was afraid of harsh words from those around Beverly and Wesley that day. But most of all, he was afraid of her and what she might think and say. Given the circumstances, all of that would be understandable. Putting herself in his shoes, she could imagine feeling guilty. She knew he did but still. What about her and Wesley? She began to feel the fringes of her temper surface. She sighed and leveled herself then looked at him. She crossed her arms protectively in front of her. "I thought I would hear from you after the funeral." Her voice touched with pain.

He moved to lean back against the counter and looked at the cabinets across from him as he carefully chose his words. "I didn't want to disturb you. I thought you might want some time alone with Wesley." He paused. "And, I figured you would want to be surrounded by your friends."

She swallowed hard and furrowed her brow as she looked at the floor. She felt tears of anger begin to form in her eyes. Was he so consumed by his own grief and self-recrimination that he couldn't see past his own nose? She exhaled sharply and shook her head. Didn't he know her at all? "I thought you were my friend." She said, her voice full of hurt and disbelief at his insensitivity.

He heard those emotions and looked at her. He softened but didn't move. "Beverly…" He began but she cut him off.

She was angry now. A single tear slipped down her face. "What? You're Jack's best friend but you're just my friend by association? Now that he's gone, you don't have to pretend anymore?" She inhaled sharply as tears rolled both her cheeks.

"No." He whispered.

She sniffled and wiped her tears away. She continued, her voice a little more level. "We spent time together, all of us, for the last ten years, Jean-Luc. When Jack and I met and throughout our marriage, I didn't send you two elsewhere to do whatever. I wanted to spend time with you too because you were important to Jack and because I…" She faltered and her tears began falling again.

He moved to stand in front of her and gathered her into his arms and held her tightly. Her arms encircled his body as her sobs racked them both. He raised a hand gently to cradle the back of her head then whispered. "Beverly, I'm sorry. I didn't want to cause you more pain." He paused. "My decision caused Jack his life." His voice was filled with remorse.

"Damn it, Jean-Luc!" She hissed and pushed him away. He furrowed his brow as he looked in confusion from her face to her hands. "You want to do this? Fine, Jean-Luc!" She nearly yelled. "Why wasn't it you?"

"What?" He was stunned by her outburst.

"Why wasn't it you who went out there?"

He opened his mouth then looked over her shoulder as he replayed that moment in his mind. "As soon as we realized what was happening and what needed to be done, Jack and Joseph were nearly in the turbo lift." He said softly.

That sounded like Jack. As soon as they knew what had to be done, Jack probably looked at Pug and nodded. Then, without a word, both men left the bridge. She softened but she wasn't done yet. She had to get through to him. "Why didn't you save him?"

"You read the report, Beverly." He said coldly then walked away.

She went after him. "Jean-Luc Picard! I've never known you to run from anything!" She stopped right behind him and covered the pad next to the door as he raised his hand to open the exit. "Don't run from me." He still faced the door. "Turn around." She demanded but he stayed still. "Look at me!" She commanded. He slowly complied and she took a step back. She looked in his eyes and saw her own anguish reflected. "Yes, I read the report. I wish it wasn't Jack but you made the right choice. It's not the choice you wanted to make. Its not the choice anyone would have wanted to make but your ability to put aside your personal feelings in any situation is one of the things that makes you a great captain. You couldn't save them both."

"Don't." He put his hand up and looked away from her.

"Don't what? Help you? Help you see that I don't blame you? I wanted to blame someone. I wanted to blame you and Starfleet but I couldn't. He made the choice to join Starfleet and serve aboard a ship. He made the decision to go out there." She said matter-of-factly.

"My decision killed him." His voice was laden with shame.

"Damn it, Jean-Luc! You did not murder my husband!" She covered her mouth with her hand as tears streamed down her face and her breath caught in her throat. A moment later, she continued in an upset and shaky voice. "You can't see past your own guilt to see me! I need you! Why can't you see that? You have caused me more pain by not being here for me!" Another wave of tears hit her.

He felt about two centimeters tall. "It never dawned on me that you wouldn't hate me. I didn't think you would ever want to see me again. What could I possibly have done or said to ease your pain?"

"No words could ease my pain. This isn't about words. It's about just being here for me. If the circumstances had been different – had it been your fault – that would be the case. But you, Wesley, and Walker are all I have left of him. Wesley and I need you and Walker in our lives now more than ever." The tears seemed endless as they continued to streak her face.

He put his hands on her shoulders. "Come here." He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her.

She wrapped her arms around his waist but as sobs began to rack her, she slid her hands up between their two bodies and around his neck. She clung to him and buried her face between her arm and his neck. He slowly, soothingly rubbed her back. After several minutes, she abruptly leaned back, tears still rolling down her face. She kissed him fully on the lips. His hands froze. The kiss only lasted a second before she resumed her previous position and hugged him tighter. "I needed this. I needed you to hold me and you left." She whispered in his ear before another wave hit her.

He tightened his arms around her feeling guilty for an entirely new reason. She didn't hate him; she didn't blame him. She felt deserted by him. "I'm so sorry." His breath caught in his throat and his eyes welled up. He managed to swallow his tears and they continued to hold each other for some time.

She pulled back but not out of his embrace and wiped the tears from her face. She wiped the moisture from her hands on the shoulders of his shirt and smiled innocently at him. He returned a small smile. She gently cupped his face in her hands. "Thank you." She wiped away invisible tears from his cheeks with her thumbs. She looked in his eyes and saw sorrow and relief. She kissed him again but this time it was full of passion and she made no indication of stopping.

This was no time for his mind to be slack but it was. His body on the other hand was responsive in the form of returning her kiss. She pushed him back against the wall. This seemed to jar his mind and he kept his hands on her arms as he pushed her away from him, breaking the kiss. "Don't, Beverly. Don't do this." He said shaking his head.

"Don't what? Don't want to feel something other than pain and numbness?" Tears began to sting her tender eyes.

"Its not right." He said softly as he slowly dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back from her.

As she spoke her next words, her tears fell. "Jack's gone! I'm not married anymore, Jean-Luc!" She paused. "It felt so good to be held by you and to kiss you. Didn't you feel anything?"

"Beverly, this isn't about me." He said gently.

"What is it about?" Her voice bordered on reckless.

"You need time." He said as he took her arm and walked her to the sofa. They sat down. He angled his body toward her and took both her hands in his.

"I need to feel something good right now." She pleaded to him. "Don't you feel anything for me?"

He thought about the promise he made her when he realized he was in love with her. The promise he would never tell her about but a promise nonetheless: he would never lie to her about how he felt about her. It was an easy promise to make; she would never ask him. Wrong. He looked in her eyes and released one of her hands to cup the side of her face.

Time seemed to stop as she looked in his eyes. She would never forget what she saw as long as she lived.

"Beverly, how I feel about you doesn't matter. You will regret anything we do here tonight. And you will feel guilty and regret what happened a moment ago." He now had one more reason to feel guilty. She opened her mouth to protest but he just shook his head. "You will. I don't want that for you." He removed his hand from her face and replaced it around her hand again. He looked down at their joined hands for a moment. Her gaze followed his. He lifted their hands to his lips and kissed the tops of both of her hands then placed her hands on her lap. "Remember all the good times with Jack and keep concentrating on Wesley." He leaned in and kissed her cheek before he rose from the sofa. "Goodnight." He said almost inaudibly then he walked out of the apartment.

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It would be ten years before they saw each other again.

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_**A/N 3:**_ No, this story is not over but I like working on work multiple things at one time to help me keep my perspective.


End file.
